Cleaving of Emotion
by SkittleSKS
Summary: AU: Vegeta must figure out how to coax his son, Trunks, to become a Super Saiyan when the planet resents the young Prince. *FINISHED!*
1. False - Fake, Not Real.

Notes:  Yes, this is an Alternate Universe.  If you do not care for them, please use the "back" button now.  No, this isn't a "Vegeta has Bulma as his slave, they hate each other at first, wacky hijinks ensue" work, either.  I do not own Dragon Ball Z, nor do I own anything related to DBZ.  My checkbook attests to that quite nicely.

This is my first attempt at a DBZ fic, and my first attempt at a chaptered story.  I really should not take on so much at once.  Ah well, on with it!

In addition, cleave is a funny English word.  It means both to split apart, and to come together.  

___________________________

_What is this child?  His hair lies flat, and has an odd color.  _

Stumbling out into the path before him, the Saiyan male began to run from his just born child.

Did my mate cheat?  Impossible!  However, I shall kill her just the same.  This…brat is not even worth the air it breathes.  Killing them both would be a service to my people.  

As he turned back to take care of the "problem," a wail pierced his ears from a nearby hut.  

"What is wrong with my child, woman?  Why does her hair look like that?  And her power level barely indicates that she is stronger than this table!"

Huh.  That was my commanding officer talking.  His child is like mine.  What is wrong?  I will permit my mate and the brat to live until this is resolved.

___________________________

The problem children were appearing at an alarming rate.  Finally, one of the few intelligent Saiyans came up with the solution:  Every male that had fought on the planet Jorage had come back to produce a problem child.  Something on that planet must have been harmful to Saiyan reproduction, thereby generating these "mistakes."  

A counsel was held, and it was determined that this "false Saiyans," as they had come to be called, would be sent to live on a remote part of the planet, and that no true Saiyan shall have contact with them.  It was presumed that the false Saiyans, due to their weak ki levels, would die within days, ending their presence.

However, the weak ki levels hid a more prominent feature inherent to most of these false Saiyans: a brilliant mind.  Working together, the false Saiyans flourished on their island, and maintained a sizable population for years.  Over time, the false Saiyans began abandoning their Saiyan heritage, and embracing their new paths, creating rather than destroying.  They took names that differed from traditional Saiyan names, and remained isolated for years, with the common Saiyan populace not even knowing of their existence.  

__________________________

Many years later:

"Have you heard?  Prince Vegeta is marrying a false Saiyan!"


	2. Vejita-sei, we have a problem.

AN:  Gee, glad this is so well-received.  Guess I should have done a traditional V/B.  

Vegeta sat, scowling at the far wall.  Chin resting on hand, the King of all Saiyans was lost in thought, while his wife Bulma attempted to converse with him about trivial matters.  

The whispers have begun again.  When I married Bulma, people thought I was tainting the bloodlines.  Then my son came along.  We named him Trunks, and echoes of treason for not naming him Vegeta passed through the corridors.  Up until the first official power reading, that is.  When the word that my son's power level had surpassed the mark previously set for any newborn Saiyan, they shut up.  Furthermore, when I became a Super Saiyan, the gossip mills shut down.  Now, here he is, eighteen seasons old, and his power level nearly surpasses mine.  But the droning has resurfaced.  He should be a Super Saiyan.  But he is too emotionally detached.  I used to think that emotions were a sign of weakness.  Now I know the strength they possess.  I taught him in the manner all royal Saiyans were taught, though.  And that may be his downfall.  For if he cannot become a Super Saiyan, the people of this planet may attempt a coup.  Heh, measly third class soldiers attempting to harm Trunks.  He is my son, and by default, can kill them.  But what is a ruler without people to rule?

The chamber door slid open, and Trunks strode in, dripping sweat on the expensive carpeting.  Suit ripped, hair disheveled, he looked his parents directly in the eyes before doing a customary bow.  

"Why is the Prince so beaten after a sparring session?  Are you that weak, boy?"

A smirk so like his fathers began to twitch around the young Prince's lips before settling on the left side of his face.  "Well, Father, maybe I should not challenge forty guards at once next time?"  

Never one to hide her caring for her son, Bulma rose and put her arm around Trunks, offering him support.  "Let's get you to the mending room.  Between you and your father, I've seen enough bruises to cover a small giant."  Slowly, they made their way out of the room, leaving a slightly pensive King.  

_Boy, you better figure out how to become a Super Saiyan, or I will be forced to kill you myself.  _ 


	3. Challenge Accepted

AN:  Nope, this isn't gonna be a romance.  Sorry, folks.  Thanks to everyone that reviewed, I was getting a bit worried there.  Oh, and bonus points to anyone who can figure out the relevance to the girl's name.  This is an AU, folks, and one possibility to how Trunks might act growing up how he did, so no "Trunks-kun is OOC, you horrid person" comments, please?

"Can't someone give me a challenge?  Or do I have to put each and every last one of you in mortal danger in the hopes that your power might double?  Maybe if I blast one of you, the others might grow enough balls to put up a fight!"  Standing in the training hall, Trunks glanced into each of his sparring partners' faces.  The six still standing were drenched in sweat and blood, with mucus beginning to congeal over some of the worse wounds.  A doctor was tending to those who had fallen long ago, working feverishly to save those who were slipping in and out of the afterlife.  Sharply exhaling in disgust, Trunks turned and strode out of the room, not even bothering to shower.  After all, he hadn't even broken a sweat.  

_There has got to be something.  Something to rile my son enough to make the transition to Super Saiyan.  _Watching from the upper rafters, Vegeta alternately marveled and grew angry at the power of his son.  _So young, and already his power level is so strong.  I honestly think his power surpasses that of a Super Saiyan, yet he hasn't made the transition.  Damn it, he needs to do it!  My son will surpass everyone that has come before.  But he doesn't care about anything.  _Standing up, and giving a look of disdain upon the carnage, Vegeta floated down to the guards that had been sparring Trunks, and punched the nearest one into the far wall.  "If I ever see you beaten this badly again by someone who is not even a Super Saiyan, I will kill you myself.  It's not as if I need guards to protect me."  Leaving the room, he pressed the call button to signal for more medics to arrive.

Walking towards his room, Trunks happened to catch the eye of a new sentry, a very eager upstart, and ready to do anything to please those in charge.  " Your Highness!  Prince Trunks!  Can I be of service to you, sir?"

"You can walk alongside me, to deflect the conversation of passing idiots.  Is that alright?"

"Uhh, yes sir."

After a minute or so, a young girl happened to accidentally walk across the hall, and cause Trunks to stop and change his course.  Reacting swiftly, the guard grabbed the girl, and turned to his Prince.  "Should I demolish her for daring to block your way, sire?"  As the girl's eyes widened in shock, Trunks chuckled under his breath.

"No, let her down.  There is no need to kill off a perfectly useful woman that can be used to propagate the planet, now is there?  Put her down.  Girl, what is your name?"

"But sire, it was a deliberate act!  She meant to stop you."

"Well, is that true, girl?"

The girl looked up at the Prince, defiance first flashing over her face, and then settling down to compliance.

"No, Your Highness.  I was not paying attention to my surroundings.  Forgive me, my Prince."

"What is your name, girl?"

"Kameko, sire."  

"Very well, Kameko.  I believe that you stopped me deliberately."  A flash of surprise washed over Kameko's face as the Prince showed no signs of forgiveness.  "So, I have no reason to spare you.  But, I am looking for a challenge.  I will spar you tomorrow for your freedom.  Defeat me, and you shall be free, no repercussions.  However, if I win…"  Trunks drew near to her ear and dropped his voice to a whisper.  "I shall enjoy testing my most powerful blast on your carcass."

With the guard long gone, Kameko looked around for a way out, or someone that could help her.  Finding none, she nodded her head in agreement, and stumbled off numbly home.  Trunks, however, continued on as if nothing had happened. No conflict appeared in either his head or showed on his face.  The only thought he possessed was the hope for a good fight from someone other than his father.  

Back at her house, Kameko jumped up and shouted for joy at her cleverness.  "I will win!"    


	4. Confronting Your Problems

AN: Yes, I have a very pensive Vegeta.  I believe that if he were made ruler, without Goku ever surpassing him in the race to Super Saiyan, he would become a reflective King.  Yeah, he would still have all that pride and anger and such, but unless it is specifically activated, I think he would be much more inclined to rule with logic instead of his ego.

"Father, I believe you are mistaken.  I did not deliberately defy you; I only reacted in self-defense.  Was I supposed to allow that third-class citizen slander the royal house of Vegitasei without recourse?"  Facing each other across the dining room table, Trunks and Vegeta squared off in a verbal sparring match.  His defiant streak rarely showed itself, but when it materialized, Trunks might be considered worse than his father.  However, there was a reason very few women envied Bulma.  Dealing with a less than pleasant King was not something they ever wanted to even consider.

"Boy, are you deaf?  I explicitly stated not to kill any citizens, yet you do so anyway.  So, are you deaf, or dumb?"  Slamming his palms on the table, Vegeta used the leverage to accelerate himself to a standing position, glaring down at his son.  "Do you not realize that the citizens of this planet do not like you?  Unless you prove that you are not the worthless idiot you seem to aspire to, they will overthrow you."

Regarding Vegeta coolly, Trunks slowly stood and looked his father in the eyes.  "The strong will survive.  Let them challenge my rule.  I may not be able to make my hair lighter, but I can still defeat any of those third-class weaklings.  After a few thousand have perished, they will realize not to challenge my authority."

My son, so much like myself, yet where I had hate and anger, he has a cool calculation.  I severely doubt he killed that man out of anger of having his name insulted.  He couldn't care less about verbal threats.  My exploited weakness, my pride, has both hurt and helped me.  Hurt me in battle, when an enemy knew how to use it, and helped me when it propelled me to Super Saiyan.  He doesn't possess that reckless pride, that 'devil may care' streak.  He inherited his mother's scientific mind.  He does nothing that does not have a measured benefit.  And that is why he is not a Super Saiyan.

"Father, are we done here?  I have a scheduled match at the training hall, and it would not look good for a prince to be late for a meeting he scheduled himself."

"Leave my sight, boy.  I shall concern myself with a suitable punishment for you at a later time.  And cut your hair.  No self respecting Prince should have a ponytail."

Walking out the door, Trunks flipped his hand up in a dismissing wave, and proceeded to the training hall.  

_I believe I shall watch this scheduled fight.  For some reason, I have a feeling it will provide me with a clue as to how to deal with Trunks.  But first, I shall speak with my mate.  Perhaps with her similar mind, she can provide assistance._


	5. The Plan - Death is both Options

"Kameko?  Where are you going?"  An old man, much too aged to easily guess his years, strode out into the modest living room, questions written on his wrinkled face.  "You know better than to just up and leave like that."  

Exasperated, Kameko turned and smiled at her father.  "Unfortunately, Dad, I had a run-in with 'the Prince of All Saiyans.'  What a cold person he is, no feeling in him whatsoever."  Gathering her training bag, Kameko continued to elaborate on her meeting with the Prince.  "I mean, you look in his eyes, and there's nothing.  Just, nothing.  No hate, no love, no anger, no joy.  Nothing."  Tying her hair into a ponytail, she slung her large duffel bag over her pointed shoulder, and attempted to side step her father.

"Kameko?  You haven't answered my question.  Where are you going?  And what does the Jerk of All Saiyans have to do with your training bag?"  

A grimace, followed by a pained wince quickly came and went over Kameko's face before she rapidly spat out her reply.  "WellthePrincechallengedmetofighthim.."

"Kameko?  In a speed below that of supersonic, please."

Gathering up a deep, cleansing breath, Kameko slowly inhaled, filling up her lungs and expanding her chest before exhaling sharply and repeating herself to her worried father.  "Well, the Prince challenged me to fight him.  If I refuse, I die.  If I lose, I die.  I'm not sure what happens when I win, but I really hope it's not die."  Shrugging, Kameko turned the doorknob to leave before being interrupted by a gnarled hand tightly gripping her own.

"Dear, how are you ever going to defeat the Prince?  Super Saiyan or not, he is still a thousand times more powerful than you."  He whirled her sharply around to face him, his slight frame belying his strength.  "Think about this.  You can run.  Do you honestly expect such a man to have mercy?  The one time I saw him, I could sense his potential.  It's frightening what untapped reserves he possesses.  Be glad he is not like his father was, ruthless, or you would be dead now."  Gripping both her shoulders, Kameko's father looked his daughter directly in the eyes.  "Run.  Run now.  If he comes for you, I will say nothing.  They can kill me before they will know where you lie.  Go far, keep your power level low, and hide.  You can still live on."  He released his daughter, and awaited her confirmation.

"No.  I will not run.  If I run, they will just kill you en route to me."  Pacing around the low table, Kameko alternated between looking at her dismayed father and the worn throw rugs littering the bare floor.  "I have a plan.  I can win.  After all, I am the daughter of the great Turtle Hermit Roshi, am I not?  I know how to fight."  

Stepping around the beaten table, Master Roshi sat down on the well-worn loveseat.  "Yes, you do.  You are my daughter, and have surpassed me in ways I never knew.  But you are a false Saiyan.  And the so-called 'pure Saiyans' have no love for us.  They will not hesitate to kill you, triumphant or not."  Eyes disheartened, he beckoned his daughter to sit beside him.  "Don't you see?  If you lose, they will kill you per the terms of the fight.  If you win, they will kill you because they see you as a threat.  You may win the fight, but you will die for the efforts."  

Kameko fought down a wave of tears as she looked at her father.  She had never seen him so distraught, so hopeless.  Steeling herself, she embraced her father in a warm hug, slung her bag over her shoulder once more, and stood.  "I must fight.  I will win.  And if I die for it, so be it.  My pride forbids me from running.  When I win, even if they kill me, they will know that a mere 'false Saiyan" has defeated their Prince.  And they will overthrow him for it.  Perhaps I can exit this world as a martyr."  Flashing a smile, Kameko looked back at her father.  "I can't lose.  I have a great plan!"

"Your last great plan got you banned from the Palace!"

"No, Dad.  That was your plan.  And what was so great about your plan to have the Queen flash you her bare crotch?  Bye."

After a running start, Kameko took off, flying to the Palace, where the Prince awaited.

AN:  "Kameko" means "Child of the Tortoise"  How could I resist?


	6. A Ripple Begins

AN:  Yup, I had just about left this one to rot.  But, then I got a nice review with questions posed.  So, it inspired me to pick this sucker up!  I watched the fight of Trunks v. Perfect Cell for this idea. And, K. Nightwing, your questions will be answered, just slowly, and not all in this chapter. ;)

Bulma heaved another sigh, hoping to draw Vegeta into a discussion.  She glanced over at her love, and watched his fingers drum on the throne while his forehead added yet another crease to its collection.  It was obvious something was troubling him, but Bulma knew that he wouldn't easily reveal his problems.  Deciding to take the reins, Bulma leaned over and lightly ran her hand over Vegeta's bare arm.  "What's the matter?  Talks not go well with the Hoatians?"

Not removing his chin from the palm of his hand, Vegeta smiled at his wife.  "Talk?  Why bother talking?  I could eliminate them all in an instant.  Why would I talk with them?"  Noticing the Queen's frown, he amended with, "They went fine.  Only a few minor details to be hammered out."  

"Hmm."  Bulma quickly reasoned out that Vegeta's preoccupation was rather large, as normally he wouldn't have been so compliant in his addition.  It was rare that Vegeta wasn't in a fighting mood.  Shaking her head, Bulma played and picked at the lacy fringes of her royal gown while she attempted to decipher what her husband's mood was about.  After a few moments had passed, Bulma heard Vegeta give an irritated snort and mutter something about Super Saiyans.  An eyebrow shot up in realization as Bulma dropped her white sleeve and turned once more to Vegeta.  "It's Trunks, isn't it?"

"How can that boy have not made the transition yet?"  Clearly riled, Vegeta gripped both of Bulma's wrists as he vented his thoughts.  "My blood carries with me the strength of a thousand generations of royalty, strength unsurpassed by any other race imagined.  And my son has inherited that strength.  His lack of emotion is stifling him.  How can this be?  And he must change, especially now that I have heard a rumor that another Saiyan may be reaching the plateau.  I believe they said his name is Kakkarot.   After he had taken on a false Saiyan wife, his village revolted, and he killed them all off in her defense.  The witnesses claimed that his fighting for his wife and unborn child caused such a rapid power increase, it was akin to witnessing an attack that exponentially increases your power level. And now, he fought off another village when they moved. If this Kakkarot becomes a Super Saiyan before Trunks, I fear a massive uprising."

Bulma pulled her wrists free, got up, and then sat on Vegeta's lap, placing her arms around him.  "You taught him to not show emotion, remember?  From day one, you said that emotions were to be discarded.  That is how you knew how to raise a Prince.  It's how your father did it."

"But I counted on his pride remaining!  He inherited our best qualities: your logical mind, and my strength and warrior's separation, but neither of our emotional ranges.  And then our upbringing reinforced that.  He is fighting with a false Saiyan in a moment.  I must go watch."  Removing Bulma from his lap, Vegeta flew off towards the training hall, leaving Bulma to further ponder how they had chosen to raise Trunks.  _He will make an excellent leader, with his logic and cool head.  That is, if he can ever become leader._

Over in the training hall, Trunks was regarding Kameko with an amused expression.  "Are you done stretching yet?  Honestly, there are only so many ligaments in the body."

Looking up from her current pose, Kameko managed a sickly sweet smile.  "Well, your Highness, some of us are not as naturally blessed as you."  After a few moments, Kameko rolled her spine up, and snapped her neck erect.  "OK, I'm ready."

"Finally."  As they both moved into the center of the arena, Trunks happened to catch that his father had just entered, sitting in the stands.

"Your Highness?  I have a request."  Puzzled, Trunks nodded his head for her to continue.  "As we both know, you desperately outmatch me in power, speed, and fighting ability.  So, I propose that we fight this match fully powered down."

"You mean no ki manipulation?"  Trunks folded his arms across his chest.

"Yes, not even to fly."

Cocking his head, Trunks thought about this for a moment.  "Very well, no ki attacks.  On the count of three, then.  One…two…THREE!"  Trunks launched at his opponent, fist homing in on the bridge of her nose.  He was sure he had her, until the last second, when she pivoted, and simultaneously blocked and provided a counter by extending her lead arm over his.  Her strike caught the Prince on the temple, and he turned, still calm.  

Accelerating his rear leg off the ground, Trunks launched a front kick, which again barely missed Kameko.  Snarling, Trunks figured that he was just too slow or that his timing was off.  Surely this false Saiyan couldn't have tricked him!  A lead leg side kick was suddenly between the two sparring partners, and Kameko deftly side-stepped, and countered with a hook punch to the kidney.

In the stands, Vegeta sat forward a bit in his seat.  This little girl had managed, through flattery, to put Trunks on her terms, where his immense power was of no use.  Her fighting style was what interested him, though.  No wasted movements, pure efficiency.  Not conducive to power, but to mobility.  And, he mused, she didn't have to block Trunks' powerful attacks, she just moved and forced him to overcompensate, which gave the additional bonus of flustering the opponent. Finally, his son was beginning to show some emotional capability. Interesting.

Down on the floor, it was evident to Trunks that he had been relying heavily on his power while fighting.  He couldn't land a decent hit on Kameko, and she was rapidly maneuvering herself into a position that left him vulnerable.  With a war shout, Trunks barreled forward with a volley of punches.  Left.  Right.  Left.  Right.  High.  Low.  Cross.  Each was avoided, and on the last, Trunks lost his balance, and Kameko stepped off, and elbowed him in the chin.  Immediately, the skin below his chin split wide open, from bottom lip to chin point.  As he realized the pain, Kameko threw him to the ground and pinned him.  Trunks yelled, and in frustration, sharply raised his power, the force of it throwing Kameko off.  As Trunks powered a ki blast in his hand, Vegeta yelled for Trunks to stop before he could fire upon the semi-conscious Kameko.  

Looking at his son, Vegeta was revolted.  The skin split was laid open like a cauliflower, blood rushing out in between spurts.  The energy crackling around Trunks served to arc off some of the falling blood, causing it to hiss and spit while bubbling.  As Kameko struggled to get up, Vegeta floated down, stepping between the two.  "This match is over.  Trunks, you need a medic.  As do you, girl.  Once you are both healed, I will schedule a training session for the both of you.  Trunks, it would do you good to learn this girl's fighting style.  And girl, maybe you could raise your power level beyond its current abysmal level."  Vegeta flew over, pressed the medic call button, and left both Trunks and Kameko to ponder what they had been sentenced to, before Kameko faded into unconsciousness.  

AN 2:  Don't worry, I ran Kameko through the Mary Sue Litmus test.  She passed.  


	7. You Don't Have a Choice

AN:  This story is hard to write.  I know how I want to end, it's getting there without breaking character that's sticky.  

"Father, I cannot believe that you, of all people, are forcing me to train with a false Saiyan!"

"Watch your mouth, boy.  Have you forgotten that your mother is a false Saiyan?"

"Have you forgotten that mother has no power?  She cannot even fly, damn it!"

Among the dark blue draping of the throne room, a heated battle of words was being waged between father and son.  Trunks had just returned from the healing chambers, the smell of regeneration fluid still clinging to his skin.  The tanks had done their job, all evidence that he had been in a fight were removed, aside from a thin scar where Kameko had split his chin.  From his stance towards his father, an observer might be led to believe that Trunks was ready to enter another fight, this time with his dad.  

It was a complete role reversal.  Normally, Vegeta was heated, while Trunks remained seated and cool.  From his throne, Vegeta glanced over his son, and was inwardly greatly pleased that he was fighting this, rather than simply shrugging and taking it.  This fire, this piss and vinegar, this is what Vegeta desired to drag out from Trunks.  And if he would train to do so, so be it. "And yet, you were soundly thrashed by this girl.  Training should improve your horrendous technique.  Or have you conveniently chosen to disregard that fact?"

Trunks reached a hand up, and absentmindedly traced the line of his scar.  "We were powered fully down.  If we were fighting with ki, there would be no match!"  

"Why does that make a difference?"  Vegeta stood, and paced around the throne.  "Why should I not require that the Prince possess the best fighting techniques, powered up or not?"

Feeling the argument slip through his fingers, Trunks decided to turn the topic a bit.  "I trained under the same style as you, Father.  If my technique is lacking, so is yours.  Why are you not jumping at this training chance, if you consider it so sophisticated?"

Vegeta let out a slow breath.  Trunks had returned to his cool, emotionless state.  By turning the question back on him, he had snapped back into his unruffled emotional stance.  Vegeta sat back down on the throne and fixed his son in place with his gaze.  "Because I have experience to teach me that overexertion does me no good.  You are still young, and should be taught everything you can before habits solidify."

Trunks smirked a bit as he thought of the possibilities before him.  "And if I refuse?  Or kill the girl?"

Creasing his eyebrows together, Vegeta affixed Trunks with the coldest glower Trunks could remember ever receiving.  "Refuse, and I revoke your claim to the throne.  Your mother is still young enough to bear another.  And I suggest you do not kill the girl, if you know what's best for you."  As the last sentence left his lips, a crackle of golden energy flickered to life around Vegeta's face.  

Any other person standing in Trunks' place probably would have been quivering with fear by now.  However, the young Prince simply cocked his head, and agreed to train with Kameko.  Bowing, Trunks turned and left the throne room for his own quarters.

Over on the other side of the planet, things were not faring as well.  

"But, Dad!  I can't train the Prince!  I can't even train a pet to sit!  What am I supposed to do with a Prince?"

Gathered outside the Turtle Hermit's house, Kameko, her father, and a family friend stood around the lone tree, discussing how Kameko could successfully complete her task.  Kameko was being her usual overdramatic self, pacing around, hands running through her hair, alternately yelling and moaning about her duty.  The friend was trying to make light of the situation, occasionally shooting off a good crack.  The old master, however, was serious about the business at hand.  "My dear, I'll have to teach you how to train a Prince."

"Dad, you've never trained a Prince.  How do you know?  Oh, why I couldn't be asked to teach him how to sing or something?"

The friend, smiling, interjected his knowledge.  "Because you couldn't carry a tune if it were tied to you?"

Kameko turned, the sparkle in her eyes betraying the frown on her face.  "Thanks, Krillin.  Always glad to know I can count on you to point out the bleeding obvious."

Krillin shrugged, and smiled at the daughter of his martial arts master.  The old master guided Kameko to a lawn chair, and bided her to sit before she paced a rut into the grass.  Leaning against the side, he crinkled his brows and began telling Kameko how to teach a prince.  "First, what you need to remember is that no matter how good you are, he is better.  Whether that is true or not doesn't matter.  He will think he's better, so let it stand.  Your job is to teach him that, even though he's better, you have some knowledge he should have."  

Leaning back on the fragrant grass, Krillin stared at the horizon.  "But, how would she do that?"

"By stroking his ego while pointing him in the right direction."

Pulling a disgusted face, Kameko looked at her dad.  "Great, I've gotta suck up to someone who considers me less than scum, while simultaneously teaching him something that he resents being taught.  No problem.  Why don't I create a new source of energy and draw up a charter for galaxy peace while I'm at it?"  

Master Roshi frowned at his offspring.  "This isn't the time for sarcasm."

"I have no patience," Kameko sighed.  "I'm lucky to wait for water to boil in the quick-heater.  And, to top it off, His-Royal-Pain-in-the-Arse is going to teach me to raise my power level.  Aren't I lucky?  More time with the Dick of All Saiyans."

"I'm sorry dear, but that's going to be a problem."  

"Why, Dad?"

With a look of regret, Master Roshi relayed the news to his daughter.  "I'm afraid that your power level is probably already very near its max.  You are one of the stronger of us, which made you a fighter.  But, you're not going to get much stronger.  We, as a race, aren't capable of much more power."

Defiant, Kameko stood.  "And if I refuse?  If I refuse to train the Prince?"

Unable to meet his daughter's eyes, the wise teacher looked at the grass below.  "While you were recovering, I was informed that if you refused, the royal guards would come for me."  Both Krillin and Kameko whirled around, fire blazing in their eyes.  "If you still don't want to, it's alright.  Save yourself."  

Growling, Kameko looked out in the direction of the palace.  "No, I'll go.  And I'll teach him.  When do I start?"

"Tommorow."

AN Part 2:

The DBZ Mary Sue Litmus Test is here: http://writersu.s5.com/history/msl04.html.  Thank the nice person who wrote it.  

Knightwing:  Great, a psych student.  So, if I mess up horribly with how someone should react, at least I've got someone smacking me for it.  :)  I combined Mirai's detachment with Chibi's upbringing to get this Trunks.  (And made him look like Mirai.  Sorry, can't help that one.)  ;)  I'll explain it better as time goes on; I'm working this slowly, lest it start looking like a romance.  

Babyshiro:  *points up*  Up there's the test.  Thanks for reading!

Vegge's Mate:  Thanks!                      


	8. Simple is Not in My Vocabulary

AN:  This would be the bridge chapter, folks.  You know, it's hard to properly describe fight scenes, especially in subtle movements.  For those of you with some martial arts experience, I'm basing Kameko's training style off Wado karate.  It emphasizes fluidity and movement over power, and rarely meets force on force.  And, still, I promise, this will not become a romance.  

"If I just say I'm hurt, then it'll have to be called off.  No, wait, they'll know I'm not once a medic comes.  OK, how about I pretend to have a sudden vision loss?  'Oops, I'm blind.  Can't train you.'  Yeah right.  I'm doomed."  Pacing up and down the training hall's polished floor, Kameko tried to come up with a suitable reason for not training the Prince.  "Oh, look, he's late.  Call it off!"  Glancing up at the large clock to the left of her, Kameko saw that the Prince was a few minutes late.  "Figures, though.  Damn royalty and their entrances.  As if the rest of us aren't important enough to bother with actually being on time for them."

A metallic beep startled Kameko out of her thoughts of escape, as she saw the door slide open to reveal the Prince.  Trunks calmly stepped inside, glanced up at the clock, and nodded at Kameko.  Without a word spoken, he disappeared into the changing area to prepare.  Moments later, he returned, dressed in the familiar Saiyan blue jumpsuit, no armor.  Tying his hair back into a ponytail, he looked Kameko up and down, causing a shiver to run through her form.  "Well, girl.  Are you ready?"

"Uhh, yeah.  Umm, let's start by taking a fighting stance."  Thinking back to her father's training, she decided to start with the very basics.  "OK, well, as we both know, you have a lot of power; more than anyone but your dad."  Looking up, she saw an arrogant smile on his face in reaction to her praise.  "So, it would make sense that you're splayed out like this."  She mimicked his stance.  "But, the problem with this, is that you can't move.  Sure, hit someone, one shot, they're gone.  But, you're sacrificing too much speed for power."  Raising herself up some, Kameko tightened her form.  "Like this, you gain mobility.  You lose power, but you're so strong, it's not going to make much of a difference."   Sighing, Kameko looked at her pupil.  "Look, there is a much stronger student of the same style as me.  His name's Krillin, he could teach you."  

Trunks tilted his head and looked at the young girl in front of him.  Powering up a ki ball in one hand, he held it up between them.  "If I did not wish to be here, I would simply kill you and leave.  I do not wish to spend my time debating who would make a better teacher.  If you are not to be it, stand still while I let this blast rip you in three equal pieces."  

Stunned, Kameko searched the Prince's eyes.  Not getting any sort of response or feeling, she concluded that he wasn't bluffing, and conceded.  "OK, I get it.  Let's continue."  Trunks clenched his fist, and allowed the ki ball to dissipate.  

After the stance basics were worked out, Kameko decided to work on dodging skills.  Holding up her fist, she asked Trunks, "How wide would you say this is?  A few inches?"  Seeing Trunks nod once in agreement prompted her to continue.  "So, when I attack, why are you moving so far?  You only need to move the width of my fist.  Anything more is a waste."   

Trunks, puzzled, looked at Kameko's fist.  "Why not move completely away to avoid a second attack?  Staying close leaves yourself open for a quick blitz."  

"Well, punch me with your lead hand."  Trunks raised his hand to strike, and Kameko quickly amended, "slowly, please."  Trunks aimed for Kameko's nose, and just as his knuckles grazed the tip of her nose, she pivoted away, to the side and behind him.  "Now, your Highness, what can you attack with?"  While he was thinking, Kameko tapped him in the ribs, kidney, and side of the leg.  "Or, more correctly, what can you attack with that's better than what I can do from this angle?"

Nodding once more, Trunks moved away from his instructor.  "Fine."  The two practiced movements and pivot timing for another half-hour, before the Prince held up his hand.  "I believe it is my turn to teach you."  Leisurely, he walked to the other side of the hall.  Feeling herself start to shake in nervousness, Kameko attempted to keep a neutral face as she awaited her task.  

Once Trunks had reached the other end, he turned around to face Kameko.  "Walk towards me, and try to touch me."  

"That's it?"  Relief and disbelief warred for control in Kameko's mind, with relief winning out.  "OK!"  Briskly, she strode in the direction of the Prince.  Looking at her part-time student, she smiled.  This was going to be a piece of cake!  _You know, maybe he isn't such a bad…_  Suddenly, Kameko's balance was thrown off, and she slammed into the floor, the impact taking her breath away.  Gasping for air, she looked up to see that Trunks had begun to power up, his faint blue aura indicating that he was still at a low power level.  

"Giving up, girl?"  Trunks sneered at Kameko as she struggled to get back on her feet.  After another fruitless attempt, Kameko managed to place her center of gravity under her and stand.  She took another step, and Trunks powered up a bit more, once again sending her colliding into the earth below.  She cried out in pain, her attempt to catch herself only provided her with a separated shoulder.  Looking up, her eyes pleaded with his to stop the torture; the waves of energy pummeling her body were too much.  Not seeing a change in emotion, Kameko looked down to the floor.  A bang and the smell of something burning behind her caused Kameko to snap her head up and crane her neck.  A smoking crater proved evidence of a ki blast.  Sharply turning back towards the Prince, she saw him holding a ball of energy, and watched him throw it behind her, closer this time.

"Each blast will be closer.  I suggest you figure out how to drag your pathetic body towards me before the blast reaches you."  

Kameko's eyes shot wide open as panic took hold.  She knew those blasts were strong enough to at least paralyze, if not kill her.  She began to hyperventilate as the fear crippled her.  "Are you insane?"  Another blast answered her question as she used her good arm to lever herself up into a crawling position.  

"My patience wears thin, girl.  I believe I will speed up the ki attacks."  Pulling a scouter from a back cupboard, Trunks placed it over his eye, checking the readings of Kameko.  "Pitiful.  You better learn how to double your power in the next thirty seconds."  Chuckling, he threw another energy ball, closer than ever.  

"Bastard!"  With an almighty scream rivaling that of the mightiest warriors, Kameko shoved herself off the ground and ran at full tilt toward her goal.  Trunks watched her power grow a bit, and nodded in recognition of the bloodlust shining in Kameko's eyes.  One corner of his mouth turned upward as he jacked his power up, the undulation knocking Kameko off her feet, head slamming into the back wall.  Trunks powered down, and calmly walked over to where Kameko lay unconscious.  As he turned to walk away, a Royal Guard happened to enter, and upon seeing the unconscious Kameko, went to call for a medic.

"No!"  Trunks yelled out, stopping the guard.  "Leave her there, do not call for assistance."  Bowing, the guard dashed into the changing room, unwilling to defy the Prince.  Trunks left the hall, found where Kameko had listed her residence, and returned to the limp body.  Flinging it over his shoulder, he exited, and took to the sky.

Master Roshi was polishing his walking stick as he felt a large ki stop above his house, and drop down in front of his door.  Wary, he brandished the stick as a weapon, and opened the door to see the Prince holding his unconscious daughter in his arms.  Shocked, he looked up at the unrepentant eyes of the Prince.  "I believe this belongs to you."  Trunks dropped the body on the doorstep, and flew off again, to the surprise of both the Master and Krillin, who had been out back.  As the old man reached down for his daughter, he heard Trunks yell in a mocking tone, "tell her I'll see her next week."

AN 2 (AKA: appreciation time!):

Stormy:  Thanks!  While that attitude won't leave our Prince, you will see it evolve into a stronger force.  

Adli:  *blushes*  Thanks, I thought it was a bit of a different take than the usual "Bulma isn't from Earth, she's from Vejitasei."  


	9. Think You Learned Something?

AN:  Hard story, hard story, hard story…

"Did anyone get the markings on that transport?"  Rubbing her forehead, Kameko slowly hoisted herself off the pillows carefully laid under her throbbing head. "Oooh, man.  And the next time I get a brilliant idea, please just save me the time and beat me around the head before I get up.  Thank you."  

Roshi, upon hearing his daughter stir, rushed into the small room, eyes alight with relief.  "Oh, thank goodness you're awake.  How are you?"

With more than a hint of mirth, Kameko remarked, "my head hurts."  

Smiling, her dad fluffed her pillows, and eased her back onto the bed.  "Well, dear, you did take a nasty bump on the head."  Reaching down, he pulled a cool, damp cloth from a bucket and placed it on Kameko's forehead.  "Now, just rest.  Are you hungry?"

"Starving!"  Kameko stretched her arms out, sighing at the multiple pops and cracks emitted from her weary joints.  "At least I don't have to see that jerk Prince for a week!"  

Her dad popped his head back in the room, cringing.  "Um, dear, could you take a look at the calendar, please?"

"Sure."  Roshi's head disappeared, as Kameko craned hers over to the end table.  "What?  I've been out for 5 days?"  Her forehead wrinkled, puzzled.  "And you didn't take me to a medic?"  

Carrying the soup tray, Roshi winced.  "Well, dear, I knew you would be fine.  I just wasn't sure when."  He set the tray down in front of his daughter.  "But, on the bright side, you didn't have to wake up to a nurse trying to give you an enema."

"Dad!  Yuck!"  Pulling a disgusted face, Kameko shuddered, shaking the tray a bit, and sprinkling a few drops onto the white sheets.

"Stopped thinking about the pain, now didn't you?"  

"Thanks, Dad."  Rolling her eyes, Kameko started in on the soup.  "So, when do I have to go back?  Two days?  Lovely."

"Tell me how he knocked you out, dear."  

Kameko let out a long breath and put her spoon down before continuing.  "OK, well, his 'training' of me was that I had to walk and touch him."  Seeing her father nod, she continued.  "So, I thought 'no problem.'  I started towards him, and bam!  Up shoots his power level, I can't stand.  I figure 'all right, it sucks, but I'm fine.'  So, then, the prick decides to be a sadist, and throws blasts behind me, making me move faster.  I get pissed; realize he's insane, and run full on towards him.  He jacks his level up more, and I went flying into the back wall.  Next thing I know, I'm here."  

Roshi, containing his anger at how his daughter was being abused, held Kameko's hand in his gnarled one.  "What have you been called to teach the Prince?"

"How to fight."

"But, how?"

"By dodging, instead of relying on strength."

"So, when it's your turn, why are you doing what you're training him not to?"

"But, I don't…oh."  

Master Roshi, or as those close to him nicknamed him, Kamesennin, smiled and gathered his daughter in his arms.  "Exactly."

"Boy!"

Trunks ignored the annoyed cry of his father, and continued picking at his nails.  

"Boy, get your feet off that table, and answer me!"

Trunks turned, leaving his feet on the table, and glanced at his father, who was attired in training clothes.  For his part, Vegeta snorted at the insolence of his brat, clad in loose pants and boots only, feet crossed up on the table.  "Yes, Father?"

Angrily striding over, Vegeta shoved Trunks' feet off the table, forcing him to quickly stand up.  "Did you knock that girl I sent to instruct you out?"

Impassive, Trunks blinked slowly.  "Yes, what of it?"

"Did I not specifically tell you what would happen if that girl was harmed?"

Trunks smirked, causing his dad to growl.  "You only specifically stated what would happen if she died.  She remains alive, and will be able to train in two days.  What is it of my concern what condition she is in during the off time?"

"That is hardly the point!"  If Trunks were wearing a shirt, Vegeta would have gripped a large portion of it by now.  Instead, Vegeta resorted to crossing his arms over his chest in classical fashion.  "The point is for you to learn some better fighting techniques than the miserable skills you call sparring now!"  

Mimicking his father, Trunks also crossed his arms over his chest.  "And the point was also for the girl to increase her power level, correct?  I have learned, and so has she.  She just came out worse for the wear."

"You believe you have learned something, brat?  Fine, let's spar.  Prove to me that you are doing more than showing off to some girl."

"Here, in the Royal Hall?"

Vegeta fired a small ki blast, vaporizing the table Trunks was previously seated at.  "Yes, here."  

The two combatants backed up, establishing proper distance.  Simultaneously, they nodded, and launched at each other, powering up on the way.  Youth was on Trunks' side, as he could access his power faster.  Fist connecting with his father's face, he quickly followed up with a crack to the temple, sending Vegeta flying to the side.  On the way out, a golden aura swelled up, and consumed Vegeta as he transformed into a Super Saiyan.  

"Still a head hunter, boy?  Have I taught you nothing?  Head shots are flashy, but body shots end a fight!"  Disappearing into a blur, Vegeta moved too fast around the room for Trunks to get a proper ki fix on him.  Just as Trunks turned to where Vegeta was last, he felt a sharp chop shove his kidney over.  As he bent into the injured side, he stuck a snapping sidekick into his dad's left floating rib.  Vegeta backed up, and coughed.       

"Thanks, Dad.  Had forgotten that."  Yelling, Trunks powered up to his maximum, the blue glow pulsing.  

Vegeta chuckled.  "I am done trading blows.  It is time to fight.  Come and get me."

Trunks flew in, and attempted a volley of blows, all blocked by Vegeta.  At the first pause in Trunks' attack, Vegeta moved forward, and picked all of Trunks' counters apart with brutal efficiency.  With a final spike of energy, Vegeta blasted forward, grabbed his son's hair, and threw him down to the ground, smashing through the Prince's throne in the process.  As Trunks lay there, Vegeta dropped out of Super Saiyan, and floated down.  

"I suggest next time you actually learn something, boy.  For we will fight again."   Just then, Bulma walked in, eyes wide in horror, and gathered her son to take him to bed.  

Once they both had left, Vegeta muttered, "Do not screw this up, brat.  If this goes right, it can turn out well for both of us."


	10. So, We Can Progress

AN:  Still a hard story.  Wanting everything to progress right, gah.  And, it doesn't help that a V/B prequel to this is slamming itself in my head.  Thanks, K. Nightwing.  Now I can't think of this story right. ;)

Floating over the quickly passing terrain, Kameko sighed.  While she was glad that she had healed so quickly for her kind, the fact that she was healthy enough to once again train the Prince did not help her mood.  And, she had debated lying low, so to speak, pretending that she was still disabled.  However, yesterday, there had been a knock on the door that she had answered.  Once she opened it, she recognized the Royal Guard armor of the visitor.  He had asked if her name was Kameko, and when she replied in the affirmative, he stated that the Prince would expect her tomorrow, as it was obvious she was well.  She cursed herself the rest of the day for that slip.

As Kameko left the isolated island the False Saiyans called home, she mused over the differences.  Where the False Saiyans built their homes to suit their tastes, the Saiyan homes tended to be exact duplicates of each other, created for efficiency.  Perhaps the greatest difference, she thought, was the concept of aesthetic beauty.  The False Saiyans decorated with trees, colors, and…life.  Each home had its distinct personality, each town its own history.  Proper Saiyans found little in such trivial matters, and preferred to find their beauty in the fight.  

Her father had placed it best, she thought.  False Saiyans cultivated new life, where the Pure Saiyans concentrated on preservation and destruction of life.  As she now broke the horizon of the Palace, she understood that now.  She was instructing the Prince how to preserve his own life and destroy others.  Even the Palace's construction was meant to preserve the lives of those inside, with the complex maze system, and sentry arrangement.  

Kameko landed, and walked over to the training hall.  Five minutes early.  Good.  She stretched out a tapered hand, and quickly tapped in the key code provided to her.  As the door slid open with a gentle hydraulic hiss, she nearly gasped as she saw the Prince already standing inside, leaning calmly against the wall.

_____________________

"Vegeta?"  

"Yes, woman?"

Vegeta almost smiled when his nose told him that his mate was approaching.  Much better her than another weak, worthless squadron leader having to report why someone was killed in combat.   In younger years, Vegeta would have blown the leader into oblivion for his failures.  Remarkably, it was Trunks that had taught him that killing them on their first offense was counter productive.  Threatening their lives worked much better, as they generally redoubled their efforts, and came out ahead.  On their second offense, well, the cleaning robots Bulma had created get to do their task.

Coming around from the back, Bulma stepped around, and sat down in Vegeta's lap.  He settled back into his throne, and waited for her verbal assault.

"Why are you making Trunks do this?"

"Do what?"

"Train with this girl.  What good is it going to do?"

Vegeta pulled Bulma's head into his strong chest, and she relaxed in the familiar warmth.  "Because he needs to learn basic fighting strategies.  His technique is horrid."

Bulma favored him with an arched eyebrow.  "You said less than a year ago that his technique was decent.  What's the deal?"

"He needs to learn something new now."

Bulma braced a hand against the solid muscle of Vegeta's chest, and pushed herself away in order to look in his face.  "You've got something up your sleeve, don't you?  This isn't just about training.  If it were, you'd get a Royal person to train him."  

Snorting, Vegeta pulled his Queen back into his chest.  "You think too much, woman."

"No, no, I'm right.  I can feel it.  What are you playing at, 'Geta?"

Vegeta merely rumbled his chest in response, causing Bulma to snuggle in further.  Her comparatively weak ears were too preoccupied with the base tone to pick up "You'll see, Woman."

___________________________

"Your…your Highness."  Kameko quickly ducked her head in a quick bow, and then glanced up at the clock.  It was rare for royalty to be early to anything, what was going on?  

Trunks followed her eyes to the timepiece, and smirked.  "Yes, I am early.  Does that annoy you?"

"No…no, your Highness.  I was just surprised."  

Amused at her verbal cover up, Trunks chuckled a bit.  "Very well, stretch out, we will begin in five minutes."  Kameko nodded her head, and began a light warm up and limbering routine.  Unbeknownst to Kameko, Trunks had been training for thirty minutes already, and so was fully warmed up.  

After the five minutes had passed, both trainees stood, and walked over.  Before Kameko could open her mouth, Trunks cocked his head to the side, and asked Kameko, "What would you consider the most important element of your style?"  

Momentarily taken aback at this Prince's purely curious tone, Kameko blinked a few times before responding.  He almost seemed…innocent with his head cocked and wide eyes.  "Well, I'd say efficiency."  

"But, we covered that…there must be more."

Kameko smiled.  He was genuinely interested.  "Efficiency doesn't end just in movement.  It's mental.  But first, what you need to learn is how to trust in your movements."

Trunks scrunched his eyebrows.  "I trust my movements."

"Ok, then, don't get punched."  Holding up her left hand, she made eye contact with the Prince, and then launched it at his nose.  Trunks moved to the side and blocked her punch before it was even halfway to its target.  "See?  You don't trust your movements.  You trust your blocks."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, don't block.  Just move."  Punching again, Kameko couldn't help but smile as Trunks moved to the side while her elbow had barely left her side.  "Why'd you move so early?"

Trunks remained puzzled.  "Why is that a problem?"

"Because I'm not overextended.  I can change my direction, change my attack.  Wait until the last moment, I'm a sitting target."  She punched again, and Trunks waited until Kameko was just about finished before sidestepping at the last moment.  When he realized the position he was now in, he smirked.  

They practiced this for a time, and then Trunks held up his hand.  "Time to switch roles."

He sauntered over to the edge of the training hall, and beckoned for Kameko to join him.  Taking a deep breath, she slowly advanced.  Once she saw him begin to power up, she steeled herself and turned sideways, locking her knees in, and turning her feet pigeon toed.  "What are you doing, girl?  Walking like that will get you nowhere!"

Kameko didn't say a word, but continued to sideways walk towards the power source.  Slipping the scouter on, Trunks powered up a bit more to see her reaction.  This level had knocked her down last time.  As she felt the wave slam into her, Kameko gritted her teeth, steadied herself, and continued to walk.  Trunks frowned.  Her power wasn't much more, how could she stand?  He powered up a bit more to watch her.

Letting out a puff of breath, Kameko grimaced.  The power smashing into her was painful; she could feel it barreling into her side, unrelenting.  Yet, she continued.  Trunks became nervous; she was supposed to be down now.  He powered up more, sure that this would send her into the far wall.  Suddenly, it hit him.  She had turned sideways to minimize her area exposed.  By lessening the target, she could lock herself in, becoming relatively immovable.  She was using her own strategies, rather than running in headfirst.  He laughed, it made perfect sense now.  "Girl, I understand.  We will train you a different way now."  A rare smile came over his face as he released the power he had built up.  

Kameko turned to face the Prince, and smiled herself.  She actually wasn't going to dread the next training session.

___________________

In his room, Vegeta turned off the monitor to the training hall, and smirked.  Perfect.

AN2:  

K. Nightwing:  Like I said, I've got a prequel to this kicking around, there'll be more V/B interactions there.  Bulma will come in a bit more next chapter.  Thank you _so_ much for reviewing, it makes me feel all warm and squishy to know people are actually reading this. :)


	11. There's Always a Calm Before the Storm

AN:  I'm thinking one chapter after this, and then I'm done.  Gotta play my cards close to my chest here…

_________________

If one was listening closely enough, they might be able to hear the soft splash of sweat drops into a puddle.  However, neither Kameko nor Trunks happened to be paying much attention to the subtle sounds, as Kameko's hyperventilation masked the muted noises.  Sucking down the oxygen available, she sat on the ground, hands positioned behind her to hold her up, completely exhausted.  "I hardly consider this fair!"

Laughing, Trunks replaced the scouter into the container on the wall and walked up behind Kameko.  Remarkably, a thin sheen of sweat had also beaded onto his skin, matting his hair down.  "Consider what fair?"

"Two hours we trained.  Here I am dying, and you're just warmed up!"  Her breathing had slowed as she rested, allowing a pout to control her lower lip.

Trunks sat down next to his partner in training, and shrugged, a playful look in his eyes.  "I don't know, I just might need a pillow."

Kameko rolled her black eyes back, hard.  "Well, cry me a river."

"Yeah, a pillow."  Trunks spun himself parallel to the turtle hermit's daughter, and laid his head down on her lap.  "This works.  Not like there's any muscle there to make it lumpy."

Kameko reached out a hand, and swatted at the Prince's arm.  "We've been training together for half a year now.  Are you planning on admitting that your training is so bad that I don't have any muscles?"

Trunks tried to frown, but the edges of his lips refused to cooperate.  As a result, a half-frown, half-smile appeared, and both Kameko and Trunks chuckled.  

A comfortable silence fell over both, the only sounds being their respiration, and the ever-present dripping of perspiration.  Staring at the stark white ceiling, Kameko thought back over the past half-year that had comprised their training.  Very, very slowly Trunks had opened up to new ideas, accepting another's opinions.  And, just as slowly, Trunks had revealed small, minute gaps in his stony demeanor.  Not that he had necessarily changed, Kameko amended, but that he had allowed Kameko to see another side to him that was not dominated by resolution and determination.  

And, she mused; she had changed her attitude.  The resentment had faded into a comfortable sort of relationship, where she didn't have to be guarded against more than his punches and kicks.  While there was still the logical knowledge that he was the Prince, and she his subject, they acted as peers, teasing each other about crushes, mistakes, and generally shooting the breeze.  

"When do you think my father will realize his son's learned how to evade an attack better than he can?"  

Kameko grinned down at Trunks.  "When you can actually do it."

Reaching up, Trunks pinched her nose in retaliation.  

Seeing his self-righteous smirk, Kameko gasped and held her nose.  "Trunks!  What do you think you're doing?"  The second she realized what she had said, she clasped a hand over her mouth.  Eyes wide with horror, her heart rate sped drastically.  Calling a member of the Royal Family by name alone was punishable by death.  And while the two had become what Kameko considered friends, she had no idea if Trunks would kill her on the spot.  

Trunks drew his eyebrows together at Kameko's display, confused.  When he realized what she was worried over, he laughed out loud.  "It's alright.  Call me Trunks in private, I don't care."

Removing her hand from her mouth, Kameko let out the breath she was involuntarily holding.  "Oh, OK…Trunks."  She let the name roll off her tongue, liking the sound of it.  

"So, tell me Kameko, what is the general population of the False Saiyans…"

Softly, Kameko broke into his sentence.  "Human."

Trunks turned his head to the side in an outward attempt to gain understanding.  "Human?"  Trunks pronounced the word slowly, as if he had never heard it before.  "I don't understand."

Picking a small scuffmark on the floor to focus on, Kameko explained in an understated manner, as if she were embarrassed.  "Human.  It's what we call ourselves.  False Saiyan makes us sound inferior."

Scowl lines appeared on the Prince's forehead.  "But, you are inferior.  Your race's fighting skills and power is no match for us."

Kameko shook her head.  "Sure, we can't beat you in a straight fight.  But it's so much more than that."

"Explain."

Sliding one hand under Trunks' head, Kameko cradled his head off her legs, and freed herself.  She then stood, and clicked open the box holding the scouter.  "This scouter.  We created it through resourcefulness.  The gravity chambers you use.  New agriculture techniques."  She placed the scouter back, and shut the box.  "Just because we're not fighters doesn't make us inferior."

"Hmmm.  I see."

_____________________

"Alright, Vegeta.  Why are you spying on our son and that girl?"  Bulma had entered the room, hands on hips when she spotted her husband once again viewing the training hall on a monitor.  

Dismissively, Vegeta responded in his usual brisk manner.  "Quiet, woman!"

"Oh, no you don't.  Not this time."  Bulma sat down on their shared bed behind Vegeta, and draped her arms around him.  "I know you're not trying to set them up as a couple, because you want Trunks to marry a physically stronger girl."  Bulma dropped her forehead into Vegeta's unyielding trapezoid muscle.  "Or, is that why you had them train?  To make her strong enough to marry him?"

"Hardly.  The brat will be marrying into royalty."  

Absentmindedly, Bulma began tracing small spirals in Vegeta's collarbone.  "So, what's the deal?  You never answer me."

Resigning himself, Vegeta sighed.  "My goal was to have them become friends."

Sitting up and pushing herself away, Bulma critically looked in Vegeta's eyes for any hint of mirth.  Finding none, she crinkled her forehead.  "I don't get it.  You spend all his life trying to isolate him from forming a friendship, and now you pick some random girl off the street to become his friend?"

Vegeta motioned to the screen.  "It worked, didn't it?"

"Yes…but why did you push them together?" 

"You'll see tomorrow, after their training session.  That's when my plan comes into play."

____________________

"Why did you wait all this time to tell me that you preferred to be called 'human'?"

"Because it's only something we call each other.  We never let on, for fear of retaliation."

Trunks was taken aback.  "And yet, you just told the Prince?"

All honesty shone through in Kameko's eyes.  "I trust you."

Trunks smiled, and squeezed Kameko's shoulder in friendly affection.  "I won't break it."  A period of silence, and then Trunks hopped up.  "Well, I'd better get off to another courting session with the vapid what's-her-name."

Kameko giggled.  "Have fun, and try not to let her suck any brain cells out of you.  I'd hate to see you lose your lone synapse."

Trunks rolled his eyes.  "See you tomorrow, same time?"

"You bet."

AN2:

K. Nightwing:  Oh, like ff.net needed another "Trunks meets mysterious, spunky girl.  They fight, then fall in love."  Retch. :P  

Think I left enough of a hint up there?  Almost neon signed it this time.  ;)  And yes, that makes sense.  And remember that…that Trunks has been gaining some of Vegeta's personality…that's what we've been working for.  I'm glad it worked.  


	12. Protection and Defenses

AN:  OK, I lied. One chapter after this.  I promise.  I needed to break this one up.  

Anyone not trained to see movements done at such a rapid pace could accidentally miss crucial, pivotal moves that were happening right before his or her eyes.  Twin blurs of power rocketed around the stark room, their lights trailing behind them, throwing off anyone attempting to properly observe the interactions.  A feminine whine sung out from the red blaze, as a masculine chuckle preceded the blue one.  Next thing anyone knew, the blurs had stopped to reveal a purple-haired youth perched on top of a dark-haired female, as he effectively pinned her to the cold, hard ground.

"Pinned you," Trunks taunted, eyes shining with exhilaration and laughter.

"Gee, thanks," Kameko sarcastically responded, "I never would have known that without you telling me."  She squirmed a bit in his grasp, trying to break free.  Finding she could not even lever so much as a pinky free, she pouted.  "Get off!  You're a heavy oaf.  I can't support your fat rear on my nice, feminine body."

Trunks rolled his eyes and let her from the ground.  "Kameko, you're about as feminine as Nappa."  Before she could sneak in a retort, he amended his statement.  "No, wait."  He tugged on a lock of her hair.  "As feminine as Nappa with a black wig on."

Scrunching up her features, Kameko attempted to look angry with the Prince, but his amused cerulean eyes tipped her hand into giggling.  "Trunks!"  She pouted, then raised the crimson energy around herself again, launching at Trunks for round two.

_______________

"Vegeta?"

"Yes?"

"Where are you going, dear?"

"To make Trunks a Super Saiyan."

_______________

The door's soft hiss and whisper of boots on the tiled floor caused both Kameko and Trunks to pause in their sparring match, suspended in midair.  As they saw the tall, wild upsweep of flaming black hair, they both dropped to the ground, Kameko on one knee, with Trunks on his feet.

Vegeta nodded his head in recognition, and motioned for Kameko to stand.  "I have a mission for you, brat."  Cape swishing around his feet, Vegeta strode past the two friends, back to them.  "There is a planet not far from here that has recently arrived at the unfortunate conclusion that they can overtake us."  Kameko looked over to see Trunks' tail whipping about behind him in obvious irritation at being prevented from continuing their match and being sent off to fight a pithy battle.  She grabbed it, and gave his tail a quick, sharp squeeze.  "Therefore, boy, I wish for you to take a small squadron and reassure them through force that their hopes are unfounded.  Do you understand?"

Eyes impassive and voice tight, Trunks replied, "Yes."

"Good.  And take the girl with you."

Trunks' power shot up, a blue haze surrounding him as a prelude to power.  Kameko merely looked stunned; who had ever heard of sending a False Saiyan to fight royalty's battles?  "Father, are you insane?  She will be slaughtered out there!"

"Not if you prevent that occurrence."

"What good would she do out there?  If this is such a hard battle that you require sending the Prince, why are you sending a hu…False Saiyan?"

Vegeta stared Trunks down, eyes and energy all directed at boring into his son's eyes.  "Are you questioning my orders?"

Trunks crossed his arms over his chest and returned the stare.  "I am questioning your wisdom, not your orders."

"You leave in four hours.  Be ready at Hangar One then."  Vegeta silently dared Trunks to contradict him, but when Trunks did not rise to the challenge, Vegeta stepped around the two friends and left the room.

As soon as the door's murmur signaled that the King had left the room, Kameko's legs gave out from under her, and she sank to the floor, hyperventilating and hands trembling.  Eyes wide and blank, Kameko stared at the retreating door in unabashed horror.  Finding her voice again, Kameko looked up at the tense and angry Prince.  "Why?" she managed, a squeak hiding the threat of tears.  She, a False Saiyan!  What did she ever do to be sent off on this suicide mission?

Without removing his eyes from the door, Trunks squatted down behind Kameko and pulled her head back into his chest.  His breathing reassured her, even as the hostility rolled off him in palpable waves.  "Don't worry.  I'll protect you.  I swear it."

__________________

As Vegeta reentered the bedroom, a paper shoved in his face greeted him.  Bulma poked him in the shoulder while holding the flight schedule up to his line of vision.  "What are you doing, sending Trunks off on a mission?  And this Kameko with him!  There's no reason for this!"

Growling, Vegeta yanked the document out of his wife's hand and threw it aside, brushing past her to step fully into the room.  

"Don't think you can ignore me this time!"  Bulma spun and stepped up against Vegeta, her blue eyes inches from his dark ones.  If she had been stronger, she would have shoved him down onto the bed, but she settled for standing uncomfortably close and shouting.  "You have sent the crown Prince, your only heir off to a 'cleansing' mission where he could be killed, and you think I will idly stand by as you threaten my son's life?"  Vegeta opened his mouth, but adrenaline flowing from a motherly protection and anger over being shut out purchased her the temporary strength to actually shove Vegeta onto the edge of the bed.  Looming over him, she continued her tirade.  "I don't know what you think you are, but whatever it is, it is not in any sort of position to do something this drastic without consulting me!"

"I have set the course for Trunks to become a Super Saiyan," Vegeta simply stated.

"How?"  Bulma raged.  "By making him kick the asses of some aliens?"  Taking a deep breath, Bulma gathered up oxygen for her next verbal assault when the realization of what was happening struck her.  Backing up, she stumbled into the overstuffed plush chair in the corner, disbelief and astonishment making their mark on her face.  Looking up at the now standing Vegeta, her voice barely broke a whisper.  "It's to kill her, isn't it?  It's to have one of those aliens kill her, and Trunks gets so enraged he transforms.  I can't believe you."  Still in shock, her voice rose, warbling in pitch but regaining some of her strength.  "You're going to sacrifice Trunks' only friend for power."

Vegeta reached for her, but she recoiled from his touch.  "No, woman.  You think so little of Trunks to think he would allow some lower creatures to kill that helpless girl?  My aim is to have his desire to protect her force the transformation."  He slipped his arms around her now still frame, and kissed the nape of her neck.  

"Really, Vegeta?'

If Bulma hadn't been preoccupied with the fire building from her husband's caresses and kisses, she might have noted the lack of conviction and dead tone in his voice.  Her light moans masked that, though as he said, "yes," before silencing the both with a kiss.

________________

Three and a half hours later, Kameko paced outside Hangar Four, her bag already on the plane.  Numbly, she had flown home and gathered clothes and supplies for the weeklong trek.  Unfortunately, her father had not been there, so she could not wish him goodbye.  _Possibly for the last time_.  A scrawled note had informed him what was happening, and ended with "I love you!"  Under her name, if he paid much attention, he would note a slight dampness where a tear had tumbled out onto the page.  

A snort in her direction snapped Kameko back to reality.  Leering at her was one of the Saiyans assigned to the Sendi mission along with herself.  She straightened her back, eyes daring him to do something.  _Bastard._  "So, girl, you're here on the trip, also?"

"Yes," Kameko sharply replied.

"Good.  I needed some," his eyes raked up and down her body, "entertainment." She growled, the flashes of red signaling that she was ready to fight.  "Oh, so you fancy yourself a fighter?  I like it when they fight back."  Kameko's hair whipped around her, the ends lashing her body as she grew more and more angry at the snide comments and stares.  "Come on, you think you can do anything to me?"

Underestimation was a common Saiyan downfall, as this man suddenly found himself on the receiving end of a thrusting sidekick to the bladder area, followed by a reverse punch to the sternum.  He roared in pain and anger, and took a powerful swing at Kameko.  But, all those months of training with the Prince had not gone to waste.  Ducking under his arm, Kameko came up behind the hulking man and delivered a sudden punch to the kidney.  He coughed and spit out a bit of blood before fully powering up and turning to strike this pest down.  

Before he could do so, though, an authoritative, strong voice echoed over to his ears.  "Maizer!  What do think you are doing?"

"Sire!"  Dropping down to his knees, and powering down, Maizer pleaded his case.  "She attacked me and I was defending myself."

"Kameko?  Is this true?  Did you strike first?"

A crimson barrier masked the sneer Kameko aimed at Maizer.  "Yes, your Highness.  I struck first."

Pointing toward the vessel, Trunks instructed for Kameko to board for takeoff.  Maizer sighed in relief; it appeared that the Prince understood.  Once Kameko had disappeared out of sight, Trunks reached down and gripped Maizer's neck in one hand, lifting him up above Trunks' eye level.  "If I ever see you speaking one word or even looking at her funny, I will not hesitate to dismember you and leave you for the scavengers to feed on your still alive carcass.  Do you understand?"  Maizer screamed as Trunks' hand flared with sudden power, burning the skin on Maizer's neck off.  "Answer me!"

"Yes," Maizer screamed again as another flash of energy seared into his flesh, "I understand."

"Good."  Releasing Maizer, Trunks stalked off to the ship.  Maizer gripped at his neck, and looked down at his hand after pulling it away.  The blood that had collected was bubbled.  Standing, Maizer entered the ship, and walked over to the regenerative chamber, preparing to heal himself.  As he entered the room where the chamber was kept, he saw the Prince leaning coolly against the metal door.  "No.  Your wound will heal naturally."  Stepping quickly up to the visibly scared Maizer, Trunks lowered his voice.  "I want there to be scars."  Allowing his shoulder to thud into Maizer, Trunks strode out of the cramped room, ready to prepare the ship for the trek to the planet Sendi.

AN2:

K. Nightwing:  Does this count as Vegeta being mean?  ;)  Yeah, I agree with you on guy friends.  You can play around more sometimes with them, and they're always helpful re: guy help.  Yup yup yup, when this ends, I'm off to begin at least one B/V fic.  (A short one is kicking around, also.)


	13. All Good People Must Come to an End

AN:  It's been a long, fun trek.  This is the last chapter, along with an epilogue.

The metal legs of the spacecraft stretched out from beneath the body of the craft, touching the earth and bearing the ship's weight with a soft metallic creak.  Settling into the sturdy legs, the ship's joints sighed as the ship finally stopped rocking.  A pneumatic hiss, and a ramp extended outward from the silver craft, allowing the passengers inside to peer out and see the outcroppings that dotted the landscape.

Boots clicking on the metal, the small squadron descended the short ramp, taking in their surroundings and assessing the danger potential.  Trunks and Kameko were the last to exit, following the five other Saiyan soldiers.  Kameko winced and shielded her eyes as a bit of loose red dust kicked up in the strong wind, rushing through her hair and prickling her eyes.  The planet's stark desert was tinted maroon, peppered with dark red stones and littered with cliffs.  The bleakness spread as far as the Saiyans could see, causing them to pause.  Their tails flicked behind them in curiosity and wonderment.  Could anything actually live here, in this seemingly deserted area?

The squadron inched forward, slowly separating to investigate individually.  "Kameko, stick close," Trunks whispered.  Nodding, she stepped closer to the Prince, who slipped an arm around her shoulder in a protective gesture.

Glancing around, the group proceeded due north, to where their maps had indicated a major settlement lay.  The only sound was that of the winds howling and an occasional pebble striking against a rock.  Trudging over the sand, the cluster of warriors gradually formed into a circle, with their Prince and Kameko in the center.  After they had long left the ship's landing area, Trunks suddenly stopped, his tail curling about his waist for protection.  Kameko gave him a puzzled look, and opened her mouth to speak, but was silenced by Trunks holding his hand in the air.  

The Prince's eyes darted about, as if he were trying to locate something.  The other Saiyans followed his lead, looking about, but it was obvious that they sensed nothing amiss.  Trunks crouched a bit, and placed Kameko behind him, and subtly raised his power level in preparation for something.  As one, the other Saiyans suddenly noticed something and wrapped their tails around themselves in preparation for a fight.  Seeing their nervousness, Kameko flattened herself against Trunks' back; she had not sensed anything wrong.  

"Kameko," Trunks rumbled out, "stay safe."  She nodded, and then closed her eyes, trying to locate the odd feeling she had on the back of her neck.  There!  Under the sand!  Twenty or so figures suddenly blasted up from beneath the reddish sand, encircling the squadron.  The aliens were large, hulking creatures that were obviously suited to subterranean living, as a layer of mucus closed their eyes and their skin was slick to maneuver them through the sand.

The Sendians barked out something obviously hostile, and the Saiyans growled in response.  While neither group could understand the other's language, threats and intimidation attempts broke any artificial barriers.  Trunks fired up his ki in a display of power, as the other Saiyans followed suit.  Not to be outdone, the Sendians abruptly shed an outer shell, and bulked up to twice their normal size.  

Without any warning, the Sendians simultaneously shot forward to attack, their bodies blurring.  Each Saiyan took on a few Sendians, attacking and defending with brutal efficiency.  Trunks became separated from Kameko, and he growled, raising his ki to its max, fighting his way back over.  The Sendians, who were not stupid creatures, saw his attempts, and penned him in, keeping him from moving toward Kameko.

Barely keeping herself from being sliced, Kameko called upon every last bit of dodging skill she had ever learned.  Left, right, right, back she moved from the pair of aggressive dusty brown warriors attempting to strike her.  Ki at its apex, she moved in a scarlet shadow, slipping off of each swing from the bladelike Sendian appendages.  Right, left, forward, she found her opening and struck, causing the alien to howl in pain.  Unfortunately, that caused both soldiers to redouble their efforts, progressing dangerously closer to delivering a critical blow.  Sidestepping one obtuse swing, Kameko slipped a bit on the sand and misstepped, allowing the other alien to come crashing down with his arm into her.

Trunks heard her scream, and shoved his power beyond its previous limits, feeling it skyrocket, feeling it surge through him.  The shock wave was enough to throw off his attackers, and he sped towards Kameko, his desperation to reach her showing through the streaks of gold that edged around his ki.  Her attacker brought his arm up once more to deliver the final blow to the wounded girl.  Pushing himself, his only, pure thought was to save his friend. The gold increased as his need became more focused.  He had to get there! The sword swung down, down to Kameko…

_________________

"Think anyone can match my power now?"  Trunks questioned.  Catching a thrown towel, he swiped it over his forehead, wiping off the collected perspiration.  Sitting down heavily on the training room floor, he leaned back on his hands, collecting his spent energy.

"Yeah," Kameko teased, "your future wife.  She'll rule you."  Plopping down beside the Prince, she got a thoughtful look upon her face.  "I think I know what really happened on Sendi."

Trunks quirked an eyebrow.  "Aside from that I saved your ass?"

"No, you let me get hurt."  She then rolled her eyes at his comment.  "You could have come a bit faster, you know."

"Picky, picky.  Sheesh.  See if I save you next time.  But what do you mean, 'let you get hurt?'"

"You knew that if I got a good enough cut, I'd have to heal in the recovery tank, so you let me get cut so you could see me naked in the tank!" She tried to contain her laughter. "Pervert," she laughingly accused. 

"Me?  At least I've got a potential mate.  The closest you've had is inflatable."

"And what do you call the brain-dead chick you've got in the wings?  She's got enough air in her head, there should be a valve near her ear."

Laughing, Trunks held up his hand.  "Truce, truce.  I should have learned from my dad: never try to out insult a human.  Heck, he tried to out insult my mom, and look where that landed them."  His face turned serious.  "Speaking of my father…"  Trunks stood, and helped Kameko up as Vegeta entered the room.  

"Relax, sit down," Vegeta commanded as the Prince and his sparring partner complied.  Vegeta smiled, a rare occurrence that automatically set Trunks on edge.  What was he up to?  "Well, I guess that I should extend congratulations for your successful mission.  You exterminated the Sendians, and no one died.  And, you reached a new plateau in your power.  It is too bad that you did not reach the Super Saiyan level, though."

"Yes, it is," Trunks replied, still wary.

Vegeta shrugged, and looked over at Kameko.  "You should be congratulated also, girl.  You are the first False Saiyan that has ever survived a mission."  Extending a hand, Vegeta nodded at Kameko.  "Come here, girl."

Kameko shot a quick glance over at Trunks, who nodded for her to stand.  Placing her feet under her, she slowly rose, allowing the built up lactic acid to settle.  The King beckoned her closer with his outstretched hand, and she proceeded towards him.  Vegeta curled up all but one finger, and turned his palm over, pointing at her.  She walked forward, oblivious.  Feeling a slight shift in the room's ki, Trunks raised himself to a crouch.  

"Girl, you are to be commended.  You shall go down in history."  Kameko cocked her head, confused.  Why would the King go through so much trouble for her?  She wasn't even a proper Saiyan, lower than third class!  "Congratulations."  The extended finger suddenly glowed a harsh blue, and shot a thin beam.  The light trail rocketed outward, and burst through Kameko's chest, ripping out a harsh exhlation from her.  The ki beam dissipated against the far wall as Trunks shot up, catching Kameko in his arms.  Vegeta turned, and left.

"No…stay with me.  You can't leave."  Cradling the limp body against his chest, Trunks began to cry, the saline mixing with the blood that was rapidly staining his hands and shirt.  He shook her, desperate for a reaction.  "Damn it, wake up!"  Hugging her form, he rocked back and forth.  "No…no…"  His power began to skyrocket.  "Noooooooooo!"  

A burst of pure golden light erupted from within, and raced through his veins to his extremities.  His hair sat up straight, and bleached itself from the roots outward, then settled to a rich, shining gold.  His placid blue eyes burned with the touch of green, and he stood and screamed as his whole body erupted gold, damaging the walls and ceiling.  

___________

Vegeta stood, just outside, watching over a monitor.  His son, his blood was now a Super Saiyan.  And that was all that mattered.

___________

Epilogue:  Seven years later.

"Can you believe that one?"  

"Nah."

Steps in synch with each other, the two Saiyan friends walked away from the palace and back to their towns.  A blur of motion collided with Paragus, who fell down from the impact.  "Hey," Paragus yelled, "what the hell do you think you're doing?"  He raised his hand to strike the man who had run into him, when his friend Yamer grabbed it, fearful.

"Paragus!  He's a False Saiyan!  You want to risk breaking the Kameko laws?"

Quickly retracting his hand, Paragus swallowed a thick lump.  "N..no.  Thanks."  The False Saiyan hopped up and ran off.

"That was close, man."

"Yeah, thank goodness you were here.  Man, if I had been caught breaking the recently passed Kameko laws…" Paragus shuddered, unwilling to think of the consequences.

"It's alright, no big deal.  Hey, how strong you think the new Prince will be?"

"Dunno, but if he's anything like his daddy King Trunks, I wouldn't want to cross him."

They set off again, once more in step.  "Hey, you believe the rumor going around?  That Kameko's still alive, just living under the Palace's wing?"

Paragus shrugged.  "That would explain some things.  But, how likely is it?"

"Hmm.  Well, we know that Trunks still trusts his mom.  It would make sense for her to still be alive.  After all, if she weren't, don't you think Trunks would have killed his dad?"

"Maybe.  Or maybe not.  Hard to tell with him, he's so distant and unfeeling."

"Mmm.  I'm still in shock though, with what he did to his wife."

"What happened?  I wasn't at the official presenting of the new Prince."

"Well, once the kid was held up, and proclaimed healthy, the King turned to his wife, said 'You are no longer needed," and killed her with a ki blast."

"Man.  That's cold.  Well, see you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow."

_Fin_

AN2:  Thanks for everyone's support.  Time to get cracking on that V/B!  

Kahlan Nightwing:  I intentionally left the gap open.  But, obviously, he hasn't completely reverted, as he never killed Vegeta, right?  Thank you for all your support, you kept this puppy going.  And I'm more than periodically checking for new stuff from you.  *hint, hint* :)


End file.
